


Bigger Than the Beatles

by coneygoil



Category: California Solo, Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-17
Updated: 2013-06-03
Packaged: 2017-12-08 17:42:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/764171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coneygoil/pseuds/coneygoil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As much as he wants to, Lachlan can’t stay away from playing music forever. A coffeehouse and a kind smile may be what he needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Lachlan swore off playing in clubs a long time ago. Heck, he swore off playing all together after the death of his brother. But the simple life working on the farm had brought him to a place of fragile peace, a place where he could forget as long as he stayed in the comforts of the rows.

Being there didn’t help him forget the music dwelling inside him, the music he wished nothing to do with for so many years. One night his fingers itched to strum his guitar, and he spent the whole evening into the early morning staring at the instrument with a bottle firm in his hand. As the sun peeked through the curtains, Lachlan downed one last swig of whiskey before snatching the blasted thing and cradling it against him.

He wanted to play. No, he needed to play.

There was a café in town he was told let musicians play after dark. That evening Lachlan visited the café, speaking to the manager – who appeared to have no clue as to who he was. That was good. That’s how he wanted it. A nameless face. Just another voice in the crowd.

The manager brought him to his office right then and listened to Lachlan play a snippet of one of the songs from his solo album. The man seemed impressed and told him he could start the next week.

Lachlan stayed a while, sitting in the darkest corner, listening to a young man with a curtain of hair shielding his face sing something about space and time and irises.

“What would you like to order, love?” a soothing voice cut through his thoughts and Lachlan jerked his head up, not realizing the waitress had approached his table.

He laced his fingers together in his lap and mumbled, “Coffee. Black.”

The waitress smiled. “Coming right up.”

He glanced at her noticing how genuine her smile was. It wasn’t a cardboard cut-out of a crudely drawn sun, but the real thing shining back at him. He watched her walk around tables as if traveling through a maze. He barely noticed what she had looked like and made note to pay closer attention when she returned.

Only a minute later, the waitress was setting down a colorful striped mug on his table and Lachlan made eye contact when she asked if he needed anything else.

“I don’t think so” he replied, racking his brain for any excuse to talk to her. She was quite a pretty girl, a brunette like Beau – the girl he secretly favored who shopped at the produce stand – but far shorter with a loveliness about her.

“Just wave me over if you need anything” the waitress informed, patting the tray against her leg.

“I’ll be playing here next Friday” he blurted out. The waitress halted, a bit bewildered, and Lachlan hurried to point out his guitar case.

“Oh,” she realized what he meant and smiled brightly, “That’s wonderful!” She leaned in close to him as if they were conspiring together. “To be honest, we’ve needed a new act for a while. I like Jimmy, but he sings too much about being lost in time.”

Lachlan chuckled lowly. “I certainly do not have any songs like that.”

The waitress patted his shoulder warmly, and Lachlan felt the dark corner lighten just a bit. “Good luck next Friday. I look forward to hearing you sing.”

He nodded with a vigor he hadn’t felt in a long time. “Thank you. I’m Lachlan, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Lachlan.” She offered her hand to shake, which he accepted gladly. “I’m Belle.”

***

Belle found she liked the new entertainment. She’d worked at P.J.’s Coffeehouse for almost 6 months, and within that time period, four different performers took to the platform. They had all sang nicely and played well, but never had she seen such passion.

On her break, she sat off to the side close to the front of the café, captivated by the intensity Lachlan poured into every song he sang. She barely sipped her iced tea and only nibbling on the ham and cheese croissant from the kitchen, far too entranced by the way he closed his eyes as he sang, lost in the music and words and story of the song.

Belle barely noticed her break was up, and hurried to scarf down her sandwich. She rushed to the back, tying her apron off and pulling out the pen and notepad from the apron pocket. When she stepped out the back, she noticed Lachlan was finishing up for his break. He stepped off the platform, making his way to the table she had occupied.

He’d be parched, Belle told herself as she waded through the tables, never minding the other customers. It would be a disservice to not serve him first.

“You were amazing” Belle commented calmly, trying not to sound too much like a fangirl.

Lachlan flashed a ghost of a smile before thanking her.

“Would you like something to drink?”

He nodded and quietly asked for a glass of water and cup of coffee, black. Belle scuttled away, taking a couple more orders on her way to the back.

Something wasn’t right.

A sadness had manifested in Lachlan’s eyes. Belle noticed it instantly. The passion and fervor he had played with seemed to drain out, and Belle wondered if something was bothering him. He’d seemed fine when he walked in earlier, smiling and chatting with her for the few minutes she could spare.

Belle returned with his beverages, her enthusiasm tapered down. “Here’s your coffee.” She placed the mug and glass of water down carefully. Hesitating for just a moment, Belle laid a hand on Lachlan’s shoulder. “You’re a very talented singer and musician. It’s like you lose yourself totally in every song.”

He seemed to not know how to respond, just stared at her as if wounded by an invisible foe.

Not knowing what else to say or do, Belle gave an encouraging squeeze to his shoulder and walked off to pick up her other two orders. She hoped Lachlan stayed behind after his last set was over. He looked as if he needed someone and Belle was good at being a friend.

***

During the first set, his adrenaline was pumping so fierce, Lachlan was barely aware he’d sung anything. The fair-numbered crowd clapped respectively, though he didn’t bother peering out at them. During the second set, he glanced up off to the side once; catching a glimpse of the waitress he’d met earlier in the week.

Belle. A fascinated smile covered her pretty face as she watched him with bright eyes.

As he continued the second set, the adrenaline began to wear off and Lachlan felt the familiar clinch of pain in his heart. He poured the emotion into the song, trying hard to keep his hands from trembling. He cut the set short by one number, feeling the need to fill himself up with alcohol. But he couldn’t do that, not on the job, and promised the habit he’d fill it when he got home.

He barely had a word for Belle when she appeared at his table. She was bestowing compliments, and Lachlan didn’t know how to take such kind words.

He hadn’t planned on sticking around after his last set, but the more he thought about it, the more it vexed him how he brushed off Belle’s kindness. She wasn’t flirting like Beau did every time she shopped at his booth. In the few minutes he’d spent with Belle, she felt real. He wished he didn’t feel a need to let her know how he appreciated her compliments. He didn’t deserve any kind of praise.

He waited out back in the quiet of the employee parking area, waiting for Belle to slip out. She walked out with the other waitress, the short blonde bidding them both a goodnight. Lachlan fiddled anxiously with a guitar pick in his pocket as Belle watched him with curious interest.

“Have a good night, Lachlan” she said, folding her arms over her chest in what appeared to be defeat. “I can’t wait to hear you play again.”

He almost let her walk away with only a short goodnight, but Lachlan called out, “Belle. I-“ He paused, running a hand through his long hair. How did it become so difficult to talk to a woman? It was so much easier to flirt and act as if nothing was wrong when it came to Beau. “Thank you.”

Belle stepped closer, rubbing his shoulder. “Are you okay, Lachlan?”

He wanted to nod and pretend everything was all right, that he was a man any woman would wish to hang out with. But Lachlan bowed his head, wondering why he was being drawn to drag Belle into his messy past. “Do you want to get a drink?”

“If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll go with you, but I’m not going to drink.”

Lachlan nearly swore, his fallback gone. He couldn’t get wasted out of his mind in front of this woman.

“There’s a Waffle House two blocks away,” Belle informed, and Lachlan stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. “I know this may sound silly, but waffles always make me feel better.”

His head was telling him to run as fast as possible from this woman, but she was smiling beautifully at him and holding out a hand as if he were her best friend. How could he deny eating waffles with her?


	2. Chapter 2

Belle hoped that if the waffles didn’t help Lachlan feel better than maybe her company would. She told him about growing up in a tiny, off-the-map town in Maine after moving from her native Australia. He seemed interested or at least distracted by her stories and they sat in a booth by the window for over an hour. She didn’t ask him anything about his life, but tried to show through her actions and her eyes that if he needed to talk, she’d be there for him.

They walked back to the café parking lot, close but not hip to hip, and said goodnight. That one late night meal started a routine for them. Three times a week they inhabited the Waffle House, the restaurant quiet and sparsely full. The more they talked, the more Lachlan opened up to her. He still would not mention the shadows behind his eyes, but in time maybe he’d trust her enough to let her know of the sadness that seemed to lurk in him. 

Two months passed in their routine, and Lachlan was a big hit at the café. Belle could hardly take her eyes off him as he lost himself in the music as he took to stage. Sometimes she forgot an order because she was so struck by him.

She liked Lachlan a lot, not just for his music but for who he was. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach every time she saw him, and with reddened cheeks, she wondered if he felt that way about her. He seemed to enjoy her company, but hadn’t shown interested with anything passed friendship. It’d only been two months, so she decided to give it time and see where their friendship led.

One morning, Belle visited the food market hoping to surprise Lachlan. She planned to invite him over for supper that evening, and needed a few vegetables to use. When she arrived at the produce stand, her bright smile faltered when she saw Lachlan slumped in a chair, wearing dark sunglasses, and looking like a mac truck had struck him.

“Lachlan?” she approached cautiously, wondering if he was even awake.

Lachlan raised his head sluggishly, trying to smile but it looked more like a grimace. “Hey Belle.”

“Did you get any sleep last night?” she asked as he pushed out of the chair and stepped up to the table.

“Probably not” an unfamiliar voice said behind Belle. She turned to find a tall brunette walking up with her own pair of dark sunglasses. “I toss and turn in my sleep. Sorry if I kept you up all night.”

Belle glanced between Lachlan and the new arrival, her heart sinking at the implications. Lachlan appeared to be the poster boy of shame as he introduced the woman to her. Her name was Beau and she was tall and gorgeous and no wonder Lachlan hadn’t showed any interest towards her!

Supper plans forgotten, Belle quickly said goodbye, ignoring Lachlan’s protest for her to stick around. Why hadn’t he mentioned this woman? They’d had dozens of conversations and he’d not spoken one word of his tall brunette. Hopes dashed, Belle tried to forget about it. She wouldn’t see Lachlan again for almost two full days and she did not need this hanging on her shoulder dragging her down.

Keeping it off her mind was difficult. She was filled with relief and dread as she headed into work, knowing she’d have to talk to Lachlan at some point during the night. She knew she shouldn’t hold it against him. Lachlan was a friend, not a lover. He wasn’t hers and never would be. They’d just have to stay friends.

Belle tried her best to hide her emotions as they greeted one another and she served him between sets. She could tell she wasn’t doing a very good job of covering anything, because Lachlan looked concerned and downright miserable at her every time she approached him.

He was waiting for her after work, leaning against the wall by the back door. Belle didn’t notice him there, covered by the shadows of the dark. She was wondering if she should stick around or just leave and sulk at home when she heard her name. “Belle?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a girlfriend?” she asked before she could stop herself.

Lachlan choked out a nervous laugh. “Beau? She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Then why were you sleeping in the same bed together?” her voice rose in irritation.

“It’s a long story,” Lachlan started, holding his hands out in defends. Belle folded her arms over her chest, waiting. “Beau has been a regular customer at the stand for a few months. I had an interest in her, but found out she had a boyfriend. The other day she told me they were taking a break and I invited her for dinner at my house.”

Belle felt her whole face grow livid. Maybe Lachlan wasn’t the good guy she thought he was. Maybe he was playing the field and she was just another prize in his conquest.

“We both drank far too much and Beau didn’t want to drive home in her condition. I don’t remember how we decided to sleep in the same bed, but she told me nothing was going to happen and it didn’t. Belle, I swear it didn’t.” His heart sounded as if it clinched in his chest at those words. “I never should have invited Beau to my house. A part of me hoped I still had a chance with her, but the whole time she was there, all I could think about was you.”

Belle’s breath caught, but she tried her best to take his words with a grain of salt. Either he was a very good actor or he really meant what he was saying.

“I should have invited you over. I should have made you dinner. Then I wouldn’t have gotten drunk, and I wouldn’t feel like crap right now for making you upset.” He lowered his gaze, staring intently at her shoes. “I hadn’t drank that much since I met you.”

Those words broke the iron grip that was keeping Belle from believing him. He’d asked her to go drink with him that first night. He looked worse for wear when she’d visited at the produce stand. Alcohol was his vice.

“You’re different, Belle,” Lachlan continued when she didn’t respond. “You don’t flirt with me like Beau. No one has showed me such concern as you have, and I know you’d be there if I needed you.”

Belle lowered her head, her resolve broken. She had a way of spotting people in need, and Lachlan’s need was written all over his face that first night he performed. She took one step closer, offering her hand to him. “Let’s go eat waffles,” she said warmly.

The corner of Lachlan’s mouth twitched up in a sad but relieved smile, and he grasped her hand as if it were his lifeline.


End file.
